


Pizzas And Other Firsts

by MayoraSadist



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Oral Sex, Public Friskiness, consent is sexy and Beel knows it, lots of grinding and humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23245474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayoraSadist/pseuds/MayoraSadist
Summary: Things get frisky in a kitchen with Beel.
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 315





	Pizzas And Other Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of a series of requests on my tumblr.

_The amethyst of his gaze captures and holds, drawing nearer. The flush across his cheeks: enticing and endearing all at once. Large, tender hands that slowly mold against the shape of your cheeks and hold– you’ve never had a man handle you as if you were something to be protected, this honored. This **loved**._

_His lips part on a sigh, broad tongue sweeping a moist path end to end and you’re mesmerized by the movement. Damp lips meet yours, the sweetest of pressures before you moan and instinctively, Beel is letting his tongue slide in between you both and into your open mouth, tasting, relishing. Sucking yours into his own warmth to play with it however he likes._

_And you gasp; you can’t tell if kissing is something that comes to him as natural as the desire to taste whatever is delectable, your first kiss as a couple making the blood sing in your veins, your heart beat in your ears like war drums, announcing your surrender._

_He’s moving to hook an arm around your waist, large hand settling at the swell of your hip before he has you lifted off of the ground entirely, pressing you insistent against his hips and you shudder, hands reaching to curl into tangerine locks –_

“You’ve got pizza sauce on your mouth.”

Beel’s voice snaps you out of thoughts; traipsing within your own day-dreams and you turn your head to notice just how close he is to you: dark eyes intently focused on the said sauce on your mouth as he points a finger to his own. “Right here.” And the gesture has you reeling back into your own head, the sight of his lips bringing back the memory of your kiss, fast and vivid.

“Uh–”

Promising to teach ~~feed~~ Beel how to make pizzas from the human world, a one-on-one session at that; hadn’t exactly been your most stellar moment so far.

Most of the brothers were still at the academy or holed up within their rooms, affording you free reign of the kitchen.

Beel moves away from you then, searching the vicinity for napkins to lend and the distance lets you suck in much needed air back into your lungs. Beel’s company isn’t distressing; he’d been your comfort since your first meeting, your relationship evolving into far more than comfort – love – before you kissed him about a week ago.

But you desired more, far more and staring at Beel’s back as he rummaged through cabinets, you weren’t sure you were bold enough to outright suggest what you truly wanted. _What if Beel didn’t want you the way you did?_

Your attraction to the Avatar of Gluttony was contentment and frustration. A lot of it.

And so gathering your confidence into words, you throw them at him in what you hope is a tone light enough to mask wayward thoughts. “Why don’t you lick it off instead Beel? You love pizzas, don’t you?”

Your voice quivers, even within your own ears as Beel’s form reappears from where he’d been searching the cabinets– and you’re left mortified at the sheer _stupidity_ of your suggestion before he steps forward, solemn nod answering your hastily hurtled suggestion. “I can do that.”

Your hands are left scrabbling for the edge of the counter behind, as you press back into it, Beel towering over you. Large hands reach forward to nudge your face upwards as his tongue swipes a happy path across his lips – a habit, you’re beginning to suspect – before ducking to meet yours.

The smack of his lips against yours, drawing your upper lip into his mouth to suck; sends an obscene rush of desire in between your legs and you moan without thought as soon as Beel withdraws before you’re halting his retreat with a hand curling tight into his sleeve. “Beel… kiss me, please.”

Beel’s face lights up in happiness at your quavered request. “Alright.”

And he’s back at your mouth, content sighs escaping you, the heat of your desire flooding your cheeks with the way his tongue licks into you, wet and eager before you’re pressing back against his chest in weak protest. “Y-your pizza will get cold.” The damp slick in between your legs growing distressing, with each press of your thighs together; lets you know you can barely have him close any longer before you burst.

Beel presses a kiss against your heated cheek. “You smell better.” A gasp escapes you at the words, ricocheting filthy within your head until you’re sure you’ll go crazy with the implications in that simple statement.

“Can I taste you instead? …Here?” One large palm brushes against the top of your mound but it’s enough to send a new wave of desire flooding your core. Beel’s cheeks are awash in pink, and you realize, he’s just as uncertain as you are; of your desire to touch the other, something you’re not sure he understands yet either.

Letting his primal senses guide him instead to what he desires and you dredge up a smile for him, fingers trailing across his cheeks in adoration. You part your legs, allowing him in. “Please… touch me here, Beel.”

Your breathy assent driving his motions as Beel gathers you easily within broad palms, lifting you off of the ground entirely, before laying you across the cool slab of the kitchen counter, gentle and careful. His hands reach to part your legs, driving your skirt up against your thighs to bunch at your waist before he buries his head in between.

The sight of his face, mesmerized, as he reaches to tuck your panties aside has you whimpering for him even before he moves forward to lap a single stroke against the sensitive bead of pleasure he finds, sending your moans higher in short, breathless puffs.

You feel him cease, fingers pulsing in soothing, press-release motions. “Was that okay? It doesn’t hurt?” Amethyst eyes, concern clouding over, meet yours across from in between your legs and you nod enthusiastically, fingers curling into his hair in an encouraging tug.

“It’s more than okay Beel. You feel good.” And he smiles back in appreciation, open mouth moving to swallow you whole this time round; leaving you with little much to do for the good part of an hour, except to voice your approval on delighted cries of his name.


End file.
